And They Would Dream
by Emma Eliza
Summary: They haven't worked together too long, and she already fascinates him. His research has told him everything about her, but he wants more. So he sneaks into her most private world..
1. Incepted Dreams

So this is my first Fanfiction. Ever. I've been mulling the idea of publishing one around, but never quite got around to it. This could possibly become a story, if you would like more. I would love to expand on the character and her and Arthur's relationship.

The melody that she was humming: Promise (reprise) by Akira Yamoka from the Silent Hill Soundtrack

* * *

_Where the hell is she? She couldn't have gone far. _

_He wanders through the streets, crossing over randomly placed bridges. This world isn't anything like any world he has been in before. Trees with glowing leaves support cottages on their branches and the sound of a river bubbles around him. There are no roads, just small dirt paths that snake between the house/trees (he's not sure what to call them, they are so peculiar). The sun turns the woods a misty gold. _

_Is this really the inside of her mind? He never would have guessed it, she tends to be so closed in, closed off from them. Not in the way that he is closed off, displaying few emotions, remaining stoic in every situation. No, she is closed off in the sense that even though they know almost everything about her, even though her entire life may be common knowledge by now, she won't acknowledge it. It's almost as if she wants to hold onto that tiny bit of privacy left, and this ethereal, mysterious, fairytale world is all she has left._

_He hears her before he sees her. He know the melody, the one she hums when she works and she thinks no one is listening, but it is impossible not to. It is haunting and sweet and it is drifting through the trees, carried by a warm summer breeze that smells like…freshly cut grass, peppermint, lavender, vanilla and the ground after it rains. Typical, her favorite scents all rolled into one. He follows the sound of her hum until he finally see her. Her hair hangs down her back, the light shining through it making it look like flames, and there are flowers intertwined through it to make some sort of crown. She is wearing a white dress and her feet are dipped in the river. But she is not alone. Two small children are with her, one at her side and one with its head lying in her lap. Both have her characteristic golden-red hair and shockingly pale skin. She is humming to them. He tries to be silent and stealthy, but it does not seem to work._

"_You can come out, Arthur", she chides gently. _

_Damn. He walks over to her and crouches beside her. The children don't tear their eyes away from her face._

"_Margo, how did you know I was here?"_

"_It's my dream, stupid. You are just a figment of my imagination. Plus, you walk like a baby elephant. Don't crush the flowers, please."_

_He sits beside her, looking out at the world she has created. Behind the trees he sees the faint shadows of a city skyline._

"_Where are we?" he asks._

"_My imagination, I guess. I really don't know why you would turn up in my dream. I mean, it's not the first time, but like I said, you're just a figment of my imagination so you probably already know that." _

_He grimaces. She looks so peaceful here. He hates to admit it, but he doesn't want to tear her away. She's stroking the children's heads._

"_Yeah, Marg, about that….don't get angry but-"_

_He's cut off when the water of the creek rises from the ground and into the air, forming balls of water. The grass begins to rip up in patches. The leaves begin to fall off the trees and shingles are torn from the houses. The children are gone._

"_Arthur….." she says furiously, but before she can say any more, the earth opens wide and they are both falling, falling, falling….._

His eyes snap open just before hers do. Her eyes are filled with mutiny. She rips the PASIV needle out of her arms. Her voice, lightly hinted with an Irish accent, is murderous.

"You….asshole."

He puts on his Point Man veneer quickly.

"I had to check up on you. It's a procedure that I do for everyone. Don't be childish." he says in his typical calm voice, not letting her crack his mask.

"You snuck into my dream! You weren't supposed to see that. That's MY world." Her voice isn't raised. It never is. She gives him one more scathing look and pads gracefully back to her desk, sliding lithely into her desk chair and yanking that golden-red hair up off her neck. They both get back to work, and true to form, after a few minutes of silence, that melodic hum starts back up again, lolling her into her own little world.

* * *

_So let me know opinions. I would absolutely love to elaborate on this plotline if you would like that as well!_


	2. Meeting and Confrontation

So sorry for the wait for Chapter 2! I was debating for a while about whether or not to make this a series, and my excitement got the best of me I suppose, so here we have Chapter 2! I decided to make this a series of random moments in Arthur and my OC's life, not in order at all, because order is boring to me.

The inspiration for this chapter is:

The fight scene between Vivian and Aiden in the movie "Blood and Chocolate". If you have never seen it, I suggest you find this blockbuster (hah, not really) at your local movie rental store. Although it got bad reviews because it strays off the path of the book, I highly recommend it!

* * *

The streets were narrow and dark and the cement of the ground was wet, but even if it were dry, her footfalls would have made no noise at all. She had been trained to leave no trace, make no noise. She had been trained to be a shadow. She turned the corner of the alley and pushed herself against the wall suddenly at the sound of voices. They were familiar, and she desperately wanted to cry out to them, but she had to finish this job. Reaching under her knee-length, pleated skirt, she felt her gun in its holster and pulled it out silently. Around the corner, her targets' backs were to her. Perfect. Silently and stealthily, she slipped around the corner, padded gently up behind her target and pointed her gun determinedly at the back of his head.

"I seriously suggest that you don't turn around, Cobb" she stated, her soft voice full of power.

His companion, however, turned quickly, and his eyes went wide as saucers. She had never seen him before; she would have surely remembered his slicked-back hair, his three-piece suit, his deep dark eyes….

"Margo!" Cobb said jovially, drawing her attention away from the exceedingly handsome stranger. The familiar sound almost broke her heart…almost.

"Margo?" Another familiar voice; Eames. Oh God, she didn't know if she could do it.

"It's been quite a while since I heard your voice. It's also been quite a while since I had one of your guns pointed at me, although, if I remember correctly, it was under different circumstances." Cobb said, feigning surprise. She shuddered at the memory.

"Assassin, eh? It's fitting, a lot more fitting then your job on our old team." Eames said thoughtfully.

"Yes, I am an assassin, what is it to you? You never thought me cold-blooded enough to kill. Or was it that you never thought a _woman_ would be capable of such unspeakable acts. Well, you were wrong. It is now my job to clean up after the most famous people in the world. I take care of the little messes that they've so carelessly left behind. Am I frightening you yet, Dom?"'

She was more frightened by the fact that her voice was shaking and the hand with the gun was frantically pointing between Eames and Dom. She was terrified that she might not have the guts to do it. Or worse, she might have it in her to actually do it. The handsome stranger was staring at her, his eyes still wide as a deer in headlights.

"And who is this? Replacing me so soon, Dom?" she chuckled mirthlessly. Dom shook his head.

"Arthur is our new Point Man. Don't be stupid, Marg. You're too hard to replace."

"Liar! Why the hell would you leave me if I wasn't replaceable! It was always about what was most convenient for you, after all! How could Mal let you do this to me?"

"Marg! Stop! Mal didn't know…" _Silence_

"…Mal didn't know." She was terrified at the promise of tears that may be pouring out of her eyes at any time now.

The stranger moved forward slowly, his arms outstretched as though to calm a small child having a tantrum.

"Margo…can I call you Marg?" She shook her head furiously.

"Ok, just Margo then. You need to put the gun down and tell us who you work for. Maybe…maybe we can get you out of this job. Maybe Cobb will let you work for him again. Mal misses you. I've seen her looking at me bitterly. It all makes sense now. I can't replace you, no one can, just like Cobb said. Please, please put the gun down. You don't have to assassinate Cobb. You could put this behind you. Work for us again. What do you think about that?" Her eyes were wide and in that very moment, she saw something change inside the strangers eyes. A sort of warmth found its way in. She lowered the gun slowly, and without a second thought, Cobb and Eames raced to her and embraced her tightly.

"What were you _thinking_!" Cobb asked, his voice muffled by her shoulder.

They all pulled apart slowly, Eames pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head and Cobb brushing stray hair away from her face. It was at this very moment that Arthur realized he wanted to be part of this small family. And as the young woman turned her head to face him, her red-gold hair glowing from the muted light of a streetlamp, her cheeks flushed and her eyes cautious, that his life would never, ever be the same again.


	3. Distractions

Heh…hello everyone….Ok. Feel free to give me your worst. I am aware it's been a very very very long time. My excuse is not a good one: I forgot about this story completely. Then when I was doing pre-school computer cleaning, I stumbled across the first two chapters in my folder. After a few hours deliberation on whether or not I have the patience to continue with this story, I decided to give it a shot. So without further ado…Chapter 3.

Inspiration is the wickedly sexy song "Let me Think About It", which I was listening to during this writing session. Warning: This is a mature scene, but there is no smut/lemon/sexytime or whatever you lot call it.

* * *

She stumbles through the front door, him hot at her heels. He barely has the time to shut the door before her hot lips are pressed against his, demanding that he return

her passion. He tries desperately to remember how he got himself into this again. This isn't the first time _this_ has happened (nor, he hopes, the last) but he promised

himself to focus on nothing but the job tonight. However, he decides as her fingers scratch lightly along the back of his neck and she finds that I _spot_ that makes him

groan against her mouth, that the job can wait a few hours. She's taking charge this time, initiating what he's been wanting to happen since she moved her desk kitty-

cornered to his. She knows that he has a perfect view of the back of her slender neck, her collar bones and the wisps of hair that fall around her ears. She's started

wearing summer dresses that hit just above her knee and with generously low necklines (though, not too low, as the last thing she needs is Eames albeit innocent

flirting). He decides he needs to return the pleasure and begins pushing all of her buttons, finding all of her spots that he knows makes her whimper and whine softly. He

sucks lightly on the space between her collar bones, brushes the back of her knees with his fingers, runs his fingers through her incredibly soft hair. Her dress is soon

removed and his shirt is discarded somewhere around the door to the kitchen and they are fighting for control of the situation, hoping to dominate the other because

neither can ever back down. She seems to be winning, with her slender legs wrapped around his waist, one hand pressing on the back of his head, the other strung

under his arm, clutching onto his back as though she might float away. He breaks away as he hovers indecisively between the kitchen and the bedroom. "Where?" he

groans softly, his voice desperate and hoarse. She grins at him wickedly. "Let me think about it…" she murmurs, her voice also raspy with barely concealed lust seeping

through. He stands with her wrapped around him for several moments while she seemingly deliberates. "Are you going to make up your mind anytime soon?" he

practically whimpers. Her only response is to move herself against him, making him bite his tongue to conceal a soft moan. Finally, after what seems like hours, she grins

and gestures towards the kitchen. He sets her on the counter and fully undresses her. That's when he takes the moment to fully see her, sprawled out in front of him,

nude and willing. "You…are so unbelievably beautiful." He whispers. The words make her moan and she reaches up, pulling him down, whispering that she will make him

forget that there ever was a job he had to do to begin with.


End file.
